


A Pair of Brown Eyes

by shessocold



Series: I Told I'd Always Love You, I Always Did, I Always Will [25]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Canon, Banter, Bathroom Sex, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Everybody Lives, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Grimmauld Place, Happy Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Remus Lupin Lives, Self Confidence Issues, Sexual Roleplay, Sirius Black Lives, Smut, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-03 21:40:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13350075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shessocold/pseuds/shessocold
Summary: Remus is about to turn 40.





	A Pair of Brown Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> The amazing [rufusrant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rufusrant/pseuds/rufusrant) made some [adorable art](https://rufusrant.tumblr.com/post/170910941121/hey-hp-shessocold-im-also-late-in-my-time) to go with this story, and I'm completely *_* about it.

Remus is not a vain person – a vain person would need to be a masochist to tolerate life in close proximity to someone as extravagantly beautiful as Sirius was in his youth – but he has to admit that he experiences a distinct pang of sadness upon realizing, in the imminence of his fortieth birthday, that his hair is now so streaked with grey that it cannot any longer be accurately described as brown.

“Why the long face?” 

“Huh?” 

“You look like your toothbrush just finished relating some very unpleasant news,” says Sirius, his reflection grinning at Remus from the bathroom mirror. “Or was it the toothpaste?” 

“It's nothing,” says Remus, unconvincingly. Sirius makes a face. “Oh, very well. But it's a stupid thing.” 

“Moony, if we restricted conversation in this house to subjects that are provenly, er, non-stupid we wouldn't get a lot of talking done, now, would we?” 

Remus rolls his eyes. 

“It's my hair,” he says, very quickly, and then, as a diversionary tactic, “How come you're already up and dressed?” 

“You hair? What about it?” says Sirius, nonplussed. 

“It's gone completely grey.” 

“Oh. But it's very nice anyway, isn't it? I love your hair.” 

“Thank you,” says Remus, rather stiffly. 

“It makes your eyes look even prettier,” insists Sirius, coming up behind Remus to kiss him on the cheek. “Look at how lovely they are.” 

Remus, obediently, looks at their joint reflection: first into his own – heavily lined – brown eyes, then into Sirius' beautiful grey ones, the colour striking in the bright morning light. He sighs. 

“What?” says Sirius, his smile faltering slightly. 

“Let's just say that I bet it's a lot more fun to stare into the mirror when you look like you do, love,” says Remus, with a reassuring squeeze of Sirius' hand. “For the rest of us, not so much.” 

Sirius blinks. 

“What are you talking about, Moony? Why wouldn't _you_ like what you see in the mirror?” 

His voice is so tinged with outrage that Remus can't help but laugh. 

“Look, I'm sorry.” he says, smiling at Sirius. “I was feeling a bit mopey about the whole turning forty thing, a bit sorry for myself. I'm fine now. Have you already had breakfast? I can whip up something nice once I'm done shaving, if you want. I'm open to suggestions.” 

Sirius ignores him. 

“Moony, listen very carefully, because frankly at this point it's ridiculous that I should have to spell it out: you are the best looking person I've ever laid eyes on,” he says, once again finding Remus' eyes in the mirror. “And not only that, but I fancy you at least ten times more now than I did when we were in school. And you know how picky I am.” 

“I love you too, Sirius,” says Remus, in a soft voice, the pad of his thumb caressing his father's old wedding band. “I love you very much.” 

“I'm not talking about _love_ ,” says Sirius, now vaguely irritated. “That's a completely different story. I'm talking about 'would I go chat up this bloke if I saw him today for the first time?' – and the answer is yes, Merlin, of course I would.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, naturally, why would you even _need_ to ask – wait a second, wouldn't you try to chat me up?” 

Remus snorts at Sirius' tone of betrayal. 

“Well, to be honest, no, I would probably be too intimidated. But I would _definitely_ pine after you from a distance.” 

“Intimidated? What are you talking about?” says Sirius, frowning. “I'm not intimidating.” 

“But you are, love,” says Remus, amused. “Both because you are so terribly handsome and because your default face makes you look like one of those blokes in portraits whose claim to fame is the sheer number of goblin rebellions they mercilessly crushed over the years.” 

“That's – that's an interesting take, coming from the person I share a bed with.” 

“Lily used to say that it was your eyebrows.” 

“Wait, _Lily_? Have you been spouting this nonsense behind my back for the past twenty years?” 

Remus grins. 

“And it gets even more accurate when you're mad, look!” he says, pointing at Sirius' glowering reflection. “The only thing you're missing is a suit of armour – do you reckon the one in the first floor corridor would fit you? I have a feeling you're a bit too tall, but maybe we could Transfigure it or something...” 

“Shut your mouth, Lupin, or I'll show you 'mercilessly',” growls Sirius, his strong arm reaching around Remus' arm and naked chest to pin him against himself. Remus gasps. Sirius immediately slackens his grip. _Keep that up,_ mouths Remus, delighted. Sirius grins, then struggles to rearrange his face into a menacing countenance. “And while you're at it, lose the towel.” 

Remus smirks. He can feel Sirius' erection pressed against his backside. 

“But what could the Lord of the manor possibly require from me, a humble, er, villager who is merely going about his morning ablutions down by the brook?” 

“I desire you,” says Sirius, the intensity of his gaze scorching. “The sight of your gay frolicking in the stream lit a fire in my loins that cannot be estinguished. Don't shield your nudity from my eyes, now, villager, or my wrath shall be terrible.” 

“My _gay_ frolicking?” repeats Remus, with a snort. 

“I meant that as in 'merry',” says Sirius, haughtily. “Now obey your Lord's command, villager, if you know what's good for you.” 

Remus lets the towel he's wearing around his waist drop to the floor. Sirius' left hand immediately wraps itself around Remus' erection, stroking it with consummate skill. Remus closes his eyes. 

“Yours is the sort of beauty over which wars are fought,” says Sirius, his voice husky with desire. “And valiant men lose their minds completely. The mere promise of a kiss from your lips...” he adds, trailing a finger over Remus' mouth – Remus automatically starts sucking on it – Sirius moans, clears his throat, starts again. “... the mere promise of a kiss from your lips would be worth sacrificing the mightiest of all the mighty kingdoms on Earth.” 

Silly as it sounds, in that very moment, standing naked and vaguely cold in front of the bathroom sink, Remus believes every word of what Sirius is saying. He's Helen of Troy. He's Beatrice. He's Guinevere. Sirius kisses him on the neck, holding him tighter against himself, stroking him faster. 

“Open your eyes, Remus,” he says. “Look at yourself.” 

Remus does. It's as if he were seeing himself through Sirius' eyes, and he suddenly can't remember why he ever thought of complaining about his appearance. He feels glorious, almost as beautiful as Sirius himself. Sirius is looking at him, transfixed, his pale fingers sliding over Remus' erection, his eyes half-closed, his lips parted... 

Remus comes all over Sirius' hand, with a moan and a shudder. Sirius strokes him through it, his other arm still draped lovingly across Remus' chest. He's beaming. 

“Well, thank you.” says Remus, slumping back against Sirius. “That was a lovely way to start the day. I should try being whiny around you more often.” 

“My pleasure, Moony,” says Sirius, planting a kiss on Remus' forehead. “Now, if you were for some reason feeling inclined to cook a full English breakfast for the both of us, I can't in good conscience say that I would stop you.” 

Remus grins.

**Author's Note:**

> This started out at the opening scene for the third installment in my Four Weddings series, and then it took a turn. Oh well.


End file.
